Page 31 of The Don's Proposal

The drive gives me plenty of time to think. Santino doesn’t touch me like he had the drive to town.

We’re both lost in our heads.

“Leave the bags. We’ll return to them later.” Giving the order to his men, he flattens a hand on my back and leads me into the home.

Bia is sitting with my sister, chatting her ear off on the steps. For once, Urzo isn’t breathing down her neck. I can’t even stop to say hello with the way he’s guiding me straight for the room I’ve adjusted to. His bedroom.

Once we’re inside, he shuts the door and starts tearing at the buttons of his shirt. He’s like a coiled spring ready to snap at the slightest push.

If he’s waiting for me to apologize, I won’t.

When I don’t move, and go as far as crossing my arms over my chest, his frown grows.

Snapping a button, he growls out of frustration and stomps back toward me. My arms loosen and I step back, trapped by the wall behind me.

“You do not put yourself in front of a line of fire, do you understand?” He’s trying his hardest to keep his feelings inside, but I can see the rush happening behind his gaze.

Well, I’m a little angry too. This man is too trigger happy for his own good.

“You can’t just shoot my brother. Even though our relationship is complicated, you can’t just kill him. My voice wavers as my fingers curl at my sides. “There shouldn’t have been a line of fire to begin with. He didn’t come to fight. he–”

“He came to take you away from me!” Roaring out his frustrations, he flattens his hand against the wall. “He’ll try again, I know he will.”

“He won’t,” I whisper. “I don’t want to leave, Santino. I would have tried going with him if I did.”

I want to stay with the man who has been torn up by the thought of me leaving his side. I’m not going to be cared about in this way by anyone else.

Reaching up, I cradle his face. “Tell me you didn’t purposely draw him out to try to kill him.”

His eyes close and he sighs. “You know that’s exactly what I did, little bird. I didn’t want to risk him taking you away from me. From him threatening my family and everything I love.”

My stomach tightens and my eyes grow wide. “You love me?”

His nose scrunches. “You need to ask that?”

I suppose it may be a bit of a silly question, but the thought is a crazy one to me.

“I want you to have my last name, Camellia. I’ve wanted it the moment I had you pressed against my desk. Wanted it even more once I had my cock inside you.” He brushes the front of my stomach with his thumb. “You’ve made me into someone I can’t even recognize anymore. Desperate and weak. Soon, my men will be whispering behind my back to try to figure out what you’ve done to thaw out my heart.”

When his eyes open, I get lost in that pit of darkness.

“I’ll marry you, Santino. I’ll become a Bertelli.” Seeing the light start to seep into his gaze, I frown. “On one condition.”

Sure, I’m pretty brave to ask him of anything. Especially when I saw how easy it is to marry someone off. Still, it can’t hurt to try.

“Save Rocco. I… I don’t know what his deal is. He’s not a bad guy, I swear. I haven’t forgiven him, not even close. But, I can’t do that if he’s dead.” I grimace at what I’m asking of him. “Please. These bonds you were talking about, they’re meant to draw families together. You said it yourself. Save the Parada name.”

He grimaces at my words. They make him look sick. Finally, he sighs. “I’ll send him a wedding invitation, then. Maybe I’ll even hand deliver it to see his face.” Murmuring the words, he shakes his head. “I suppose he’s already my in–law thanks to that sister of yours.”

Hope starts to grow in my chest, but his frown diminishes it.

‘I’ll try, Camellia. However, if he isn’t on board, and he tries to take advantage of my kindness by attempting to take my life, I will not hesitate to put a bullet between his eyes. Sorry-looking bastard looked like he came hoping I’d do the job today.”

Murmuring the last part, I can’t help but agree. He did seem surprised to see that I was still alive, and probably happy as well.

“Alright then. I’ll become Mrs. Bertelli. Don’t make me regret–”

I don’t get to finish my sentence. He’s too busy swooping down to capture my lips with his own. Like he’s been starved for contact, he doesn’t pull away.

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